Black Sheep

Attempt 370 at stopping a mass murder: Failed.

The universe has decided to make my life a living nightmare and unfortunately for me, that isn't a Guinness Record. For the last half, an hour my date with legit every flavor of ice cream in the store has been disrupted by Heath and Xavier glowering at each other. The intensity is warding people off as stale food would. 

"So, anyone wants more ice cream?" I intervene and both the boys ignore me, still pegging each other with award-winning glares. 

Attempt 370 at stopping a mass murder: Failed. 

"I'm just gonna get another scoop of Cherry-Berry. You guys want anything?" I ask hopefully, pulling out a wad of bills from my back pocket as I stand up. The boys spare me a glance before shooting each other a deathly sinister smile and turning to me once more, "Rocky Road", Xavier speaks, and Heath tuts. He stands up and entwines our fingers. 

Fangirling overload!

"A real man wouldn't let a lady pay for him." When it comes to Heath Hobbs, chuck my feministic values into a trashcan and burn 'em. This guy can turn me into a staircase and step on me, make me a pillow and sleep on me or even run me over with his truck. 

Yeah, his truck. 

Okay, never mind, too much dirty. 

Xavier scoffs, "only someone who didn't know her would say that." He prises Heath's fingers away from mine and entwines his fingers with mine. "A lady?" He scoffs again, turning to face me, "She's a dragon not a damsel in distress. She doesn't need saving, others need saving from her."

And somewhere inside me, a little part begins to swell and grow for the blond in front of me. Yeah, we all like things we can't have. And Xavier Blaze is that unachievable, unattainable thing for me. 

That Prada bag you like when you're broke. 

The carbs when you are on a diet.

Or the boy that your sisters and nearly the entire female population are crushing on and fantasizes about and has wet dreams about. Since I'm not that cool with letting my heart go, I jerk my hand out of his grasp and reply to a confused Xavier, "cool, thanks."

His brows furrow at my response and I resist the urge to smooth the creased skin and litter his face with kisses. His confused expression continues to haunt me even as I pay for their ice cream.

 Another girl. 

Every girl basks him with attention. 

So why does it matter if I give him the cold shoulder? 

"Thanks", I mummer, grabbing the cups I make my way back to their table. 

Xavier has no right to be mad or confused at me for showing him the cold shoulder. He's probably done that to a dozen girls and karma is a Bad Bitch. Besides, if he's not interested in an actual relationship, why is he perplexed by my sudden attitude change?

Losing a few admirers won't damage his reputation or affect his ego. 

I sit at the table and slide their respective ice creams to them. Thankfully they have the decency to thank me and then go back to their weird stare-off while eating their ice cream. 

Respect the delicacy in front of you. 

I shove another spoonful of the cold goodness into my mouth while watching the shitshow in front of me. "Blaze", Heath mummers, his attempt at appearing intimidating fails when he swoons over the delicacy attacking his tastebuds. 

"Hobbs", Xavier retorts, blue orbs linger on me for a second before fixating themselves on Heaths. "Get lost", he commanded and I scoffed, placing my hand on Heath's I assuringly smile at him. "Let's get lost together. There's only so much rude-asshole I can tolerate."

"Jesus. H. Christ", Xavier scoffs, mirroring my bitchy look. He rolls his eyes, "Heath's an eyesore", I can't help the gasp that escapes my lips. Heath and an eyesore? Those two words can never be in the same sentence. He could be on the cover of Vogue, on every billboard in NYC, and become the next Francisco Lachowski. His looks can cure the blind and make nuns thirsty. No way in hell, he's an eyesore. "Gettin'possessive, mate", Heath smirks, crossing his arms over his chest he leans back and continues in his drool-worthy Australian accent, "I was just leaving."

The urge to fill my veins with faux disappointment dissipates when Xavier entwines our fingers and leads me away. The feeling of his skin against mine and the heat from his body cause sparks to erupt across my skin and bolts of electricity to replace the blood in my veins. 

If his touch can make me feel out of this world I wonder what his kisses can do?

Our proximity is so distracting that by the time I turn around to wave Heath goodbye, he's a dot in the sea of humans. Xavier's grip on my wrist remains and after a few minutes of silent walking through the sea of people, I break the silence, "why'd ya' do that?" 

Curious green orbs meet his blue ones and he clenches his jaw. I combat the urge to caress the skin of his face and mold my lips against his. "Do what?"

Quit the act, Blaze. Makes you look like an ignorant coward. "Stop playing dumb."

He shrugs, fueling my irritation, "I don't know."

"Really?"

"Yes, really! What do you want me to say? That I was jealous? That I hate Heath?"

I rub my temples, "did I even ask you to say that, you were being plain mean to him!"

"Just fucking leave it", He yells and I flinch. The freaking last straw. 

"Fine", I huff, channeling the inner spoilt brat I cross my arms over my chest, "I'm going to go find Heath." I flash him with a challenging smirk and he rolls his eyes. When he doesn't respond, I shove my hands into the pocket of my jeans, pivot on the ball of my foot, and march off. 

Is it that hard to stop someone? Is it that difficult to throw your ego out of the window and hold someone back? Is it that difficult to explain yourself? To apologize and to love? To break down your walls and let people heal your wounds? 

I throw my head back one more time to see him walking away. He doesn't toss his head back or try to yell at me to stop. The sea of people separating us represent how far apart our worlds are and our different approaches to the situation represents how incompatible we are. 

So stop me, Blaze.

Prove me wrong.

Hold me back.

Just fucking defy.

Sometimes people run because they wish to be chased. 

The saddest part isn't that he didn't stop me, it's that he never turned around and re-thought his decision.